Sherlolly
by Michaela pendragon Holmes
Summary: "Sher..lolly...? Shipping? We are not boxes." Sherlock gets confused when one of his coworker’s slip of the tongue opens his eyes to the wonderful world of fanfiction.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing**.

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson stood in a dingy London flat that was the site of a recent murder. Police investigators hurried to and fro around the flat, collecting and labeling evidence in a buzz of activity. Sherlock Holmes stood in the center of the chaos, shooting of deductions and observations as they came into his head. Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard scribbled furiously, trying to keep up with the detective's words, while John Watson stood nearby, periodically adding comments such as "show off," and "prick," in reaction to his best friend's notoriously abrasive work style. Sherlock's rhythm was interrupted, however, when Anderson entered the room.

"You know what, Anderson," Sherlock said as Anderson walked through the door, "Somehow, you don't even have to open your mouth to make my head hurt." He spun on his heels to face the shorter man. "Get out," the detective said in a deep and menacing voice.

Anderson drew himself up indignantly. "Hey–"

"No. No speaking. Get out. Get out now," Sherlock commanded.

Lestrade sighed, rubbing his head as he watched the two men facing off. "Just do what he says," the inspector told Anderson. Meanwhile, John Watson stood to the side, doing his best to suppress and conceal a fit of chuckling.

"You prat," Anderson sneered at Sherlock as he turned to walk out angrily, slamming the door behind himself.

"Yes, that's very mature," Sherlock muttered to himself as he turned back to the crime scene.

"Come on, Sherlock, why do you have to be such a git?" Lestrade asked.

"You know I dislike Anderson, Grady," Sherlock replied disinterestedly.

Lestrade looked at the detective unimpressed. "Then why is it," he retorted, "that you can recall his name but always forget mine?"

"He's got you there," John chimed in.

"That's beside the point," Sherlock growled.

"No, seriously. Why?" Lestrade pressed, determined. "You hate Anderson, yet you remember his name. You don't… dislike me, and you can't remember mine."

Sherlock huffed uncomfortably at the question. "Well," he began, "He's annoying, therefore, I need to remember his name so I can insult him. you are my...friend and I...don't need to remember a good...friend's name." Sherlock reasoned, although he struggled with his words.

"Not a good answer but i'll take it, that's as close as you'll get to being nice," Lestrade shrugged resignedly. "Talking about being nice. Whats up with you and Molly, yeah?" Lestrade teased the detective.

John laughed at that sudden change from the tension in the room. "Yeah, Sherlock," the doctor joined in.

Sherlock turned blushed indignantly as he began to walk towards the door. "I don't have time for this," he announced, "I need to go to the morgue."

"To see Molly?" John teased.

"NO," Sherlock replied in frustration, "..to catch a murderer."

"Oh, come on," Lestrade began

"I'm out." Sherlock insisted firmly as he began to leave.

John and Lestrade shared a knowing glance before following Sherlock.

"Tell us,"

"Come on!"

"No. NO. Go away!" Sherlock said. "There's nothing happening! Leave me alone," he commanded them in irritation.

"Tell us!" John continued to press, "Ooh, the consulting detective and the pathologist, that's a great blog post!" he threatened.

"No. Don't! Just… no," Sherlock nearly begged, "I'll tell you, alright?!" he said in a raised voice.

Lestrade and John smiled. Sherlock sighed in resignation. "We've been together for about seven months. I finally stopped being foolish and confessed my feelings. Okay?" Sherlock admitted.

Suddenly, Anderson jumped from behind a police car on the street. "Hah! I knew it! I knew it! What did I say?! I ship sherlolly!" he yelled while running away.

"Sher..lolly…? Sherlock sounded out on his tongue. "What on earth? Shipping? We are not boxes," Sherlock pondered, his brows knit together in confusion over Anderson's words.

John chuckled at his friend's perturbation. "Oh boy."

"John, I think I can see the smoke coming from his ears," Lestrade commented in amusement.

"I know. I'll explain it on the way to St. Barts."

 **Two Hours Later**

 _Molly! Have you seen the things people write online about us? "Sherlolly fanfiction." It's disgusting_ \- SH

 _Oh yeah…..um…_ \- Mx

 _No, don't tell me._ \- SH

 _Yeah, I might have read some stuff… and written a bit…_ \- Mx

 _Your name. Now_ \- SH

 _Molly Holmes_ \- Mx

 **30 Minutes Later**

 _Come over._ \- SH

 _ **Author's Note: Hola y'all. So that didn't go exactly as I was planning, but i like it, and hope you will too. Also, Grady is a real name. I looked it up. It's an Irish name, meaning "man of rank."**_

 **Edit 10/18/18: _Thanks to my editor, galahsrock who cleaned up my grammar to make this story more readable!_**

 ** _Also thanks to anyone who has read, reviewed, commented, or favorited this story!_**

 _ **\- Michaela**_


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